


Red Flame

by mintbrownies



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, angst with happyending, quarter life’s crisis at its finest, woosang are a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintbrownies/pseuds/mintbrownies
Summary: Jognho, 80s Pirates' drummer, graduates high school and goes through existential crisis.





	Red Flame

Jongho can pinpoint the exact moment he questioned his entire existence.

It was right after his last day of high school, the band had gathered to celebrate him finally being a grown up, and Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been generous enough to treat all of them to dinner. Wooyoung said it was their duty as the most financially stable members of their group because of their side jobs, and Yunho almost went into hysteria at the mention of money as he barely managed to save up enough to start college the upcoming semester.

Off the corner of his eyes, San and Yeosang are simply there, having a quiet conversation within themselves as they discussed a new song they were working on, San’s guitar attached to his back like always just in case he needed it even though he wasn’t that good at playing it, but Jongho supposes it still was better than nothing. Any time these two work on a song together it’s simply the most amazing and captivating thing he hears, it’s as if their smooth dynamic translates into music, and that music is absolutely like nothing else jongho had ever heard. He envied that, they seemed to be really sure of what they’re doing, working with no hesitation and trusting the process.

Jongho watched the interaction as he followed behind them, giddy, and with side smile that is threatening to break his face. His cheeks were hurting and he can’t remember when it was the last time he smiled this big and for this long, probably since the last time they all had the chance to get together.

“So, what’re your plans now? College?” Mingi asks from beside him, an arm suddenly thrown over jongho’s shoulder and squeezing him warmly to his side as they followed the others.

A plan. Jongho didn’t really have a plan.

Up until recently things were very clear, he didn’t need plans, he had the band and he had school, and between the two he somehow managed to find the right way to balance his life for the past four years.

he never needed a plan, and now to think that he needed one actually sacred him. To think that he had to have a plan now, to make an active decision regarding his life, well, that was terrifying.

“I don’t think I’ve really thought about it.” he says after a moment, and Mingi simply smiles and nods turning his head back to the conversation in front where Seonghwa was yelling at Yunho for some reason.

It was simple to him, only a question, but that question just shifted Jongho’s entire reality into something uncertain and it was as if he had just entered a new realm of possibilities, none of which had a positive outcome in his head.

 

*

It was interesting how although Jongho’s life seemed to take a pause, the band and the rest of the world didn’t really seem to be affected by his internal crisis.

After his graduation, and a week of missing around and celebrating, it was finally Thursday again and Jongho found himself at their shitty rented studio on his drums, rehearsing a few covers and tracks in preparation for an upcoming gig at another shitty club. The payment was nothing, sure, but it was better that nothing, and San seemed enthusiastic about this one because of the club’s aesthetics matching the song he had been recently working on. Jongho doesn’t really get it, but if it makes his bandmate happy then he can tolerate it.

One beat at a time he goes, trying to immerse himself in the song instead of the storming chaos inside his head. Wooyoung was warming up on his guitar beside him, and San humming to himself the song Jongho was playing.

He misses the beat once.

He takes a deep breathe, and looks into the mirror wall in front of him, working on his eye contact and trying to let the song take over him like it usually does, but he fails again.

School was done, he isn’t a kid anymore. He doesn’t know where to go from there.

What to be, what to do.

He missed another beat.

This time San and Wooyoung look at him in worry, Jongho had never missed up two times in a row, he was a good drummer, decently above average as they sometimes jokingly put it.

Jongho wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good either. He was slightly above average.

The air got caught in his throat, and cold sweat broke into his body, “I need a breather.” he declared, storming out of the studio, and what was supposed to be a brother turned to him simply going back home, leaving his stuff at the studio and hoping one of the two would bother to at least lock fo the door before they leave.

This isn’t good.

*

If Wooyoung and San had thought that what had happened the other day was weird, they don’t bring it up, and Jongho is thankful for that.

It was around 6 pm that they all gather and Yunho and San’s apartment, getting ready for the performance that’ll be around half past eight. Jongho usually liked these moments, they often partnered when getting ready, there weren’t set rules or anything but he often noticed that a few pairs stuck together as they got their makeup and hair done, and maybe it was because they found comfort in the similar style, or maybe it was something else Jongho really couldn’t be sure as he took a glance at Wooyoung fixing Yeosang’s eyebrows gently and attentively. Jongho didn’t know eyebrows could take that long but apparently to Wooyoung they do.

“Look here.” Mingi shifted Jongho’s face by his chin, inching closer to draw the the thin dark line above his lid. The feeling of  the cold liquid was always uncomfortable, but Jongho had learnt to bear it for the sake of the band’s image “You noticed too?”

“Well, they make it obvious, it’s not like I was prying or anything.” Jongho whispered back, assuming Mingi was talking about the other two. “Is Yunho coming tonight too?” Jongho asks, because he feels like being an asshole, and it’s really amusing to see Mingi all flustered at the mention of his new boyfriend.

Their relationship if fairly new, about four months old, but everyone in the band knows that Mingi was whipped since the first few visits to the cafe Hongjoong worked at. Hongjoong then, obliviously, introduced the band to his co-worker that usually worked the same shift as him and ever since then Yunho seemed to be as much a part of the 80s Pirates as any of them were. Just minus the hardcore makeup.

Jongho doesn’t miss the way the older’s hand starts to shake as he kept working on his makeup, “he always comes to the shows.” He says fondly, Jongho might even find it cute if he wasn’t distracted by the uncomfortable eyeliner.

It takes a few more minutes for Jongho’s makeup to be done and thankfully by the time he is up to change Wooyoung had finally moved from Yeosang’s eyebrows to his eyelids. When he passes by them Jongho ruffles Wooyoung’s hair as sign of encouragement, ignoring the annoyed huff the older lets out.

He goes to San’s bedroom to grab an outfit, partially because he knows San wouldn’t mind and partially because he woke up to Hongjoong storming into his house and rushing him into the care thirty minutes ago to get ready, he didn’t exactly have the time to grab a fit.

“Found something you’d like?” San asks as he approaches Jongho, a hand on the younger shoulder as he helped him look through the different ‘performance outfits’ San had laid out in front of him. The older had make up already done, red and brown eyeshadow matching his hair, and long sleeved mesh shirt underlying the navy crop top he was wearing, accessories all over his body that Jongoh is sure will shine beautifully under the lights of the club as they perform just like they always do. It was at times like these Jongho found himself wandering how his friend was able to transform so much, right now he really looked like an edgy band vocalist instead of the soft biology major he is on regular days, when his body is basically swallowed by baggy sweatshirts and his messily dyed hair is pushed under snapbacks.

He seems to be comfortable as both Sans and in both personas and Jongoh found himself wandering how is he able to do it so effortlessly, and if he himself can do it too.

San moved to pick a few items when Jongho didn’t answer him. They looked like stuff that Jongho himself would own, a black shirt and ripped skinny jeans topped with some accessories, something average and practical enough that you could wear when you’re uncertain. However this time the thought of being average and uncertain arose a foreign kind of bitterness within him. He didn’t like it.

“Wait, uh - could you maybe lend me something more?”

“More?” San tilted his head, the long earrings dangling from his ear reflecting the light from the bedside lamb.

“Just more, not average,” he paused a little, “something like what you’re wearing.”

San only blinks at him for a while, not saying anything, which is a bit understandable since Jongho’s opinion came out of nowhere. He had never been one to pay extra attention to his style or how he looked on stage, as long as he was presentable and matched the rest of the band that was fine. But, now - well, now he’d like to see what it’s like to know who he was, to be sure of his path in life just as San was, and maybe starting with his style was somewhat doable with the others’ help.

But that way San kept looking at him with this look that illustrated concern, Jongho didn’t really appreciate that.

“Look, if you don’t want to lend me some stuff I can go ask Yunho it’s fine.” He said, trying to mask the discomfort he felt as San’s eyes kept studying him attentively.

San shakes his head, eyes a bit wide and perhaps more taken aback by Jongho’s words than the younger thought he would be. “No, no that’s not - Jongho is something wrong?”

Ah, there it is.

“So I ask for a change of style and now there’s something wrong with me?”

“ Jongho, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Then what did you mean, San?” He challenged. He knew he didn’t make sense but that didn’t matter, because Jongho was confused, lost, and bitter and that wasn’t a very nice combination.

“That day at the studio.” Of course. Jongho was certain the older would bring it up at some point. “and now _this_. It isn’t like you.”

 _Well, maybe I’m tired of being me. Tired of being the average one._ Jongho wanted to say so badly. But, he knows better than to ruin the mood before their performance. The money was mostly short and they can’t afford to cancel or show up with toxic air that won’t ever get them booked again.

“It’s nothing that you need to worry about, I’ve got it under control.” He lies through his teeth, and it hurts so bad when the other keeps looking at him with pleading eyes, begging him to tell him what’s bothering him.

Jongho can’t tell. Because that’d be humiliating. He’s already an adult, he should’ve gotten his shit together by now, should be knowing what’s the next step and who he is as a person.

And to share these thoughts with San? That simply wasn’t an option.

It takes a minute or so on convincing the other before San is back to picking Jongho’s outfit for the night. Something a bit more than Jongho’s usual style, but not as experimental as San’s.

Yet, Jongho looked at the mirror and all he saw was San.

The foreign bitter feeling was present again in the pits of Jongho’s stomach, only this time it was a little more stronger than before.

*

After the gig at the Rising Sun the band returned to its usual routine of practicing, rehearsing and writing. Hongjoong was once again working on producing the track San and Yeosang had been working on and today it was Jongho and Wooyoung’s turn to record their instrumentals. It was exciting, Jongho usually had the most fun recording with Hongjoong we the producer never made it feel like a chore, he took his input and accepted any new idea Jongho and any other member of the band gave.

Wooyoung was mostly done with the planned parts, but stuck around in case something needed to be added, which was mostly the case every time they record something. He pats Jongho’s back when he gets out, a wide grin taking over his face, “it’s really perfect to play, they did a good job.”

 _The Awakening_. The paper had read, and as Jongho began drumming he could feel the reason behind Wooyoung’s words. It was by no means an easy song to play, it may even be one of the hardest they ever had recorded, by Jongho found himself liking the song for that even more.

The song starts certain and sure, smooth and easy to follow, before it storms into a chaotic storm of notes that Jongho barely was able to keep up with. He thinks it’s suit their image, and the concept San had been working on for so long can really be felt through he music.

It’s easy to imagine them on stage, their main vocalist at the center with his usual performance outfits and red hair, starting the song softly before he dives into it with no fear, and no hesitation. That was San, and the song very well illustrated him, what San was, and what he aspires to be.

It was clear, there was a path, and there was a _plan_.

Jongho - he just doesn’t have any of that.

San clearly does.

*

Call him rickless and irrational but after a few months of struggling Jongho kind of decided that maybe if he wanted to be like San then maybe, perhaps, he should start doing the stuff San does.

Is it childish to think so? Most likely. But Jongho figured that if he didn’t like whatever San is doing then he can at least cross out those things from the list of possibilities regarding his future, and maybe then his plan would be much more clearer rather than the mess it is right now.

Him, Yeosang and Mingi were hanging at the cafe Hongjoong  and Yunho worked at and checking the most recent lyrics their supportive vocalist had written when Jongoh finally found himself brave enough to ask.

“Can I help writing the lyrics for our next song?” He directs the question to Yeosang, and Mingi chokes on his iced white Mocha at the mere mention of the idea, which is understandable since Jongho never had shown an interest in lyricism.

“How come? You’ve never helped me before even when i asked you to.” Yeosang answers as he pats Mingi’s back, helping the other in his violent coughing. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jongho can see Yunho peeking at their table with a concerned look and the drummer feels bad for somewhat causing this, the barista was very attentive to their bands bassist and it must’ve worried him that he couldn’t come to check on him because of the rush hour.

“He’s fine, just being dramatic!” He shouts playfully to break the tension in the barista’s expression, and Yunho sends him a thumbs up, the knot between his eyebrows relaxing a little.

For the past few weeks Yunho had been looking more tired than usual, his known bubbly personality washed out by the stress of work and keeping up with his courses enough to maintain the scholarship he barely got before the beginning of the semester. He even insists on attending all the band’s gigs and important recordings which doesn’t leave him much time to sleep properly.

Jongho turns his gaze back to Mingi after he deemed that Yunho wasn’t distracted by them anymore, and he wanders briefly if Mingi was aware of how tired Yunho looks. If he is, then he’s not really showing it, not in front of them at least, but Jongho guess they can never truly know, he just hopes that Yunho manages to sort everything out soon.

“But you’ve never wrote anything before, why now?” Mingi inches closer after one last wheeze, eyes wide with curiosity enough to make Jongho shy away from them, afraid of him somehow reading into his actions.

It was true, for the past four years the drummer had kept himself occupied to his drums only. He sometimes helped in writing the music itself, but to him writing lyrics was a whole new territory that he wouldn’t dare to come near. Lyrics expose you, and Jongho wasn’t sure what he feared exposing but the idea of sharing his feeling seemed to be inappropriate to him at the time.

But, right now Jongho is lost with nothing else but the band, and if he considered having any shot at being a musician for a living he needed to push himself out of his comfort zone, even if that meant terrible suffering at the beginning of the process.

Yeosang and San do it all the time, so it can’t be that bad.

“The only reason I refused to in the past was because of school, now I’m free.” _and lost_. He doesn’t add.

“Okay then,” Yeosang has a satisfied smile as he says, “there’s a draft to a song San and I had been working on, maybe you can add your own perspective?”

*

Apparently writing songs isn’t easy. And it’s not like Jongho had ever though it was easy but he at least thought it must doable since Yeosang and San come with at least three or four songs every month. Not all of them make it out of the recording studio, but the at least they’re productive, which Jongoh is clearly not, by looking at the blank document in front of his face, that seems to be mocking him for even attempting to write something.

After a few hours of wasted time in the studio he decides to go to San and Yunho’s for a change of atmosphere and also to check on his friend just in case he needed something, Yunho unfortunately didn’t seem like he’s handling everything on his plate all that well. He’s only half surprised when San opens the door and Mingi is laying on their couch with a blanket, face hidden behind a bunch of cushions.

“Is he okay?” Jongho whispers, and San shakes his head before he gestures for him to come to his room and keep as quiet as possible as he does so.

“They had a fight. Yunho and Mingi.” San says quietly as soon as he had shut the door behind him.

“Why?”

“There was yelling about priorities and college and like a bunch of other stuff, I tried not to intervene. Yunho can be really scary when he’s mad.” San visibly shivers at the thought and Jongho is reminded of that one time Yunho and San had to spend an entire weekend without electricity because the vocalist forgot it was his turn to pay the bills. To say the least, Yunho wasn’t all that understanding.

“So what brings you here?” San drops himself on the bed and pats the space next to him for Jongho to sit.

The younger considered if he should talk about the lyrics right now, but his mind was still occupied with the other two outside. “Well, one of the reasons is that I wanted to check on Yunho.” He says honestly.

“Ah, so you noticed too?” San smiles sadly, “he was doing well when the semester started, but then it was clear that he was struggling and I kept asking if things were fine and he kept saying that they were, but last night he had a panic attack. I had to try to calm him down until the the morning, and then he had to leave for class, still shaking. “

“Did you tell Mingi?” Jongho wandered. “Is that why they fought?” The look of empathy of San’s face change to an offended one for a brief moment, and Jongho feels bad for accusing him, he didn’t mean it in that way neither did intend for the question to come off like that, not intentionally anyways.

“No, never. That’s not my place.” The vocalist strongly denied, an offended frown taking over his face, “I just advised him to look after Yunho more.” He shakes his head then and it seems like all negative emotions were collected away from his face, it was amazing how he was able to control himself no matter what. Jongho can’t really relate.

Leaning against the headboard with an arm thrown over the younger’s shoulders, San asks “and the other thing?”

“Huh?”

“You said that checking on Yunho was one of the reasons you came here, so there must be other, right?”

“I- well, yes, I wanted to go to Yeosang but he’s having a _recording session_ with Wooyoung -”

“A date.” San chuckles, and Jongho grins widely at that.

“Yes, I think so anyways. So, i decided to come to you for advice.” he sits straight, eyes scanning the purple sheets they’re sitting on, they had nice patterns, San has such a good taste when it came to decor.

“You know how I’ve been working on writing some lyrics, well, I’m lacking in the writing department.”

San eyed him suspiciously, and Jongho is expecting him to ask him what’s wrong again. “How much do you have so far?”

“Nothing. A blank page, and a blank mind. But I’m trying.” he adds, to sound less like a loser.

His desperation might’ve reached San because he mumbles something that sounded like “I know you are” as he ruffled the drummer’s hair standing up and walking to the center of room. “When you hear music, what do you think of?” he says animatedly, clapping his hands and looking at Jongho expectedly. Eyes focusing on Jongho enough to make him shy away from them uncontrollably. He isn’t very good with eyes contact when he is the center of the conversation. “You think about movement, dancing, right?”

“Not really, I mostly think about how to recreate it with my drums.” Jongho asks, confused, he adds, “you dance?”

“Well, that depends on how you define dancing. I just ‘move to the music without rhythm’ according to Wooyoung, and the guy stopped dancing when he was ten.” He claps his hands again, “anyways,” he extends his hand to the younger.

 

It takes an embarrassingly long time before Jongho finally gets what San is asking him to do, the vocalist grabs his hand when the younger doesn’t move and when they’re standing his eyes meet the younger once more, “it’s art. Art is easy, just let it travel through your body until you get what it wants you to say, and how it wants you to translate it.”

Art is easy. That was a very Choi San thing to say, overly confident but it somehow didn’t seem out of place as he attached his phone to the speakers atop of his bed and _The Awakening_ is playing in hushed volume, just enough for the two of them to hear it clearly.

“But I can’t dance.” Jongho tries weakly but his hands are already guided by San’s to hold onto the older’s hips.

“Didn’t you hear me when I said that I can’t dance either? I’m a disgrace.” San giggles sweetly, arms moving until they’re lazily dropped over the younger’s shoulder.

After some some it’s only music that Jongho hears, and it’s only San’s warmth that he can feel as the older squeezed himself into the junction between the his shoulder and neck. It wasn’t anything special, that’s just how San was with everyone, he cared.

What terrified Jongho though, is that he might’ve been caring about too much himself too.

“Is it working?” San asks lazily as they swayed.

Jongho breathes deeply, his chest falls as the heavy instruments fade out, he recalls the feeling he had when he recorded his part, he recalls the excitement he felt when he finally mastered his drumming enough to get the thumbs up from Hongjoong and satisfied and excited grins from Yeosang and San when they heard their creation coming to life.

And that’s - maybe that’s enough for now.

“It didn’t work. “ Jongho says and he's betrayed by how vulnerable he sounds, “but thank you." 

He doesn't try to hide how he feels, he did that for so long, so when San brings him closer and tells him that ' _whatever it is, it's going to be alright_ ', and that ' _hyung is going to be there for him_ ', Jongho doesn't push him back. It feels good to lean on someone, and not think for once.

He had been thinking for a few months about what is the next step, focusing on the band, going to college, starting a whole new thing altogether. Writing lyrics was one thing of an entire world of possibilities that San seemed to live through on his own, leaving Jongho behind in his average misery. Music, stage presence, style, drive and motivation - San had all that Jongho lacked, and he also had all the Jongho wishes for.

There was _San_. A personification of hell and all that perfection could ever mean, there was Yunho that attempted to handle everything, barely managing and mostly broken, and there’s Jongho, too scared to actually step forward and do anything.

Less greedy; maybe he had to be. 

More accepting of who he is, not who he wishes to be.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah.  
> how we feeling.


End file.
